Many years ago, I took some acting classes at the local adult school. Some of us found out about an improv workshop that was being held at a local theater, and since I loved Whose Line Is It Anyway, I went, and learned that there are three rules of improv (at least according to our particular instructor):
1. Say “Yes, and”
2. Listen
3. Make your partner look good
They make a lot of sense. Saying “no” leaves you with nowhere to go. Making your partner look bad does the same thing. And if you don’t listen, you’re doomed before you even start.
Tina Fey has talked about how “Yes, and” are words to live by for her. She also talked about it with Alan Alda on an early episode of his Clear + Vivid podcast, which is a great listen. “Yes, and” led her to her SNL job, among other things—even when she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Embracing the adventure got her where she is.
Back in July 2015, I embarked on my own adventure. I went to the International Pinot Noir Celebration. A dear, wise friend convinced me go despite my initial reservations (the cost, knowing pretty much nothing about wine), because it looked like such a fabulous party. And I decided to go on my own.
Unconsciously, I operated by the three rules of improv. I decided that I was going to taste absolutely everything that was put in front of me. There was no requirement to have more if I didn’t like it, but I had to try it. I stopped after one raw oyster, because I felt like I’d just ingested the Pacific Ocean, but it turned out that I liked quail. I also tried every wine that was put in front of me (and believe me, that was a lot of wine). Saying “Yes, and,” to everything meant I missed nothing.
I listened to everything and everyone. Advice for getting through the weekend (“Do not finish every glass that’s put in front of you or you will not make it to lunch” was key). The people around me as I made new friends. The presentation on how the bubbles get into champagne, which was absolutely fascinating. I also “listened” by watching what others did and learning from that as well. The result? I learned a lot in three days, and also mostly managed to blend into the crowd rather than looking like the clueless soul I knew I was. (I’ve often said that I left that event as the world’s most ignorant wine snob as a result!)
I made my partner look good, too. My partner was me, but I was on my own for a reason. I wanted to eliminate the possibility of hiding in someone’s shadow rather than getting to know people. It worked. I also dressed for dinner every night, just because I could. I introduced myself to some really interesting people. I even walked right up to a movie star and struck up a conversation twice before the weekend was over. (Turns out I took all the audacity on this trip!) When you make your partner look good, you look good, too. Bonus!
The result of all this unintentional improv was one amazing, life-changing experience. I got to see myself in such a different light—so much more brave, adventurous, open, and friendly than I usually thought of myself. I took a risk and I ran with everything that came as part of it. It could have blown up in my face (and the headache I had overnight the first night came close!), but mostly, it was an astonishing, worthwhile trip. The risk led to real reward.
Two years later, I went to New Zealand and Australia for a month, also on my own. It’s not unusual for me to travel alone, but this was the first time going halfway around the world for a month. My preferred travel plan is to find a home base and make it up from there—improv! So, after a few days in Wellington, I plunked myself down in Queenstown for a week and made one of my first right-hand drives in more than 20 years shortly after I arrived—to visit that same actor’s farm/vineyard.
When I got home, a friend told me her husband said, “How the heck did she do that? Did she just walk up and knock on the door?” Well… that’s not too far off! One of the only things I did in advance was to email the vineyard manager, whom I’d met at the festival, to ask if I could take a tour while I was there. They were happy to arrange a time and send me directions.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: ASK. If I hadn’t asked, I’d have wondered for the rest of my life if I could have gone. Worst case, they’d have said no.
But, boy, when people say yes… that’s where the adventure begins! I came back to my AirBnB that day with some fantastic stories—the drive itself was one—and a bag full of fresh figs and apricots that were literally falling off the trees.
The same is true for my podcast, which is another story that includes a whole lot of asking and flying by the seat of my pants (I never know where it’s going to take me next, but I’m always curious to see where it’ll be!).
And honestly, what is life if not one big improvisation? We can’t ever really know what’s coming next? Humans love to think we can, sure, but what’s that famous saying? Life is what happens while you’re making other plans. Or that other one: You make plans, and God laughs.
This is why I think improv really is a way of life, or should be. It’s come up several times on the podcast, so if you want to hear more about that, I recommend listening to the episodes with actress Jennifer Nasta Zefutie (whose life really has been all “Yes, and…”), poet John Roedel (who does improve and never expected to be a poet), and writer and coach Nina Hart, when we sat down and talked about Keith Johnstone’s foundational improv book, Impro.
I’ll leave you with this message from the universe—or just from Wagamama, which I found while desperately seeking lunch in Wellington. It popped up on Google maps like a sign from the gods (Wagamama is my favorite UK restaurant—I didn’t even know they existed in New Zealand). The message couldn’t have been more fitting, then or now:
How do you live by “Yes, and?” How could you do it just a little more?
Improv is the best!
Now that I know you like wine tasting with food... look for forwards in your email box to some events this fall!